


Tag!

by AnyaElizabeth



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Crack, EWE, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-22
Updated: 2009-11-22
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnyaElizabeth/pseuds/AnyaElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron receives a very special body spray... hijinks (and makeouts) ensue!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tag!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my dearest dear Emily and for [the person who offered up this prompt here](http://community.livejournal.com/passthebunny/5410.html#cutid1) a long time ago. It's basically based on a Lynx advert, so it's a bit cracky, but not completely so!

Harry decided to return to Hogwarts after the war for his seventh year. So did Hermione, which was not surprising, and Ron, because he couldn't bear to be away from Hermione.

So did Draco Malfoy, which caused a bit of a stir.

"You can't let Malfoy back in the school, Headmistress!"

Headmistress McGonagall looked disapprovingly over her glasses. Harry squirmed in her new office, feeling like a first year. How could he feel like this, when only a few months before he'd killed the darkest wizard in a century?

The brand new portrait of Dumbledore winked.

"I thought Mr Malfoy helped you in the war, Mr Potter?" said McGonagall. "I thought maybe he was 'not quite as much of an evil git' as you thought?"

"Well... yeah... but –"

"And without his mother, you would not have killed Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes, but –"

"And didn't you even go to his hearing and speak on his behalf?"

"Well, I mean, I _did, _but..."

"But what?"

"That was when I thought I'd never have to see him again!" protested Harry. McGonagall gave him a look.

He hung his head. Honestly, he'd defeated a Dark Lord, didn't that give him _some_ influence?

Ron and Hermione were waiting for him as he left the office.

"Let me guess – she laughed you out of the room?" said Hermione. Ron patted him consolingly on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, mate, there's a whole bunch of new seventh years between us and him. And you get to be in Ginny's year – that's good, right?"

"Great," said Harry, who'd felt less and less urge to lose himself in her kisses now that he knew he wasn't likely to die.

"It's going to be very strange, being in a different year," said Hermione. "I mean, I've not really spoken to Ginny's friends before and now I'm sharing a dorm room with them. It's like first year all over again. You don't know any of the boys very well, do you?"

"Nah. Apart from Dean," said Ron.

"And Colin," said Harry thoughtlessly, then winced. Hermione looked sad.

"Come on," said Ron seriously. "We ought to go and introduce ourselves. I can't even remember any of their names."

They trudged up the familiar route to Gryffindor tower, and entered their own not-so-familiar dorm rooms. There were seven beds in this room, a few more than Harry and Ron were used to, and Dean was already up there talking to their new classmates.

"Hi," said Harry, and a hush fell over the room.

"Alright, Harry," said Dean with a grin. "Come and meet Derek, Ritchie, Jack and Andy."

Harry smiled faintly at his four slightly awestruck dorm mates.

"Hey Ritchie, hey Andrew," he said. "Didn't know you were the year below."

"Oh yeah, you guys played Quidditch!" said Ron, looking much happier. He jumped onto the nearest available bed. Harry sat down on the one beside it. He wondered which one Colin had slept in.

Derek, a gangly dark-haired boy harry just _knew_ would be about a foot taller than Harry when he stood up, grinned at him.

"Read your interview in the Quibbler last week," he said. "You have had a _weird_ life."

"Tell me about it," said Harry.

"Gotta have it's perks, though... I mean, you get to shag the hottest girl in our year."

Harry stared.

"God, yeah," agreed Jack, who looked a little like the Hardy to Derek's Laurel, "Great tits... is she good?"

Ron coughed significantly and looked murderous. Harry thought he ought to shut his mouth.

"Er, we obviously meant that Ravenclaw girl you were dating, she's in our year now isn't she?" said Jack quickly.

"No," said Ron, with deadly calm.

"Ah," said Jack. "Well, she was pretty hot. And Ginny's a, a beautiful young woman."

"She is," said Dean, wistfully, and recieved looks of surprise from everyone.

"Oh yeah!" said Andrew. "You went out with her too! She's really – er, a lovely person."

Harry looked at Dean, who looked back passively and then down at his bedcovers. He smiled faintly, with more emotion than Harry was used to seeing from him.

"She is," he agreed. Harry felt strangely guilty.

"What about your girlfriends?" said Harry, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, I have a girl," said Jack. "In Ravenclaw. You all know what they say about them."

"Not really," said Harry.

"Well, think about it," he said. "They keep their noses in books all the time... not all of what they read can be textbooks, can it? And they're so tightly wound... when they let go they must be wicked kinky."

"Must be? As in, you don't know from experience? Wow, either she's frigid or you are," teased Andy.

Harry looked at Ron, expecting to share a glance of horror at the depravity of the conversation, but Ron was opening his mouth to speak.

"It's the Gryffindor girls that are _really_ kinky," he said, waggling his eyebrows significantly. "All that good behaviour's got to break some time."

Harry stared. Ron shrugged.

"Sorry, Harry, not everyone's as repressed as you, and I've got foul-mouthed brothers."

"So Hermione Granger's got a kinky side?" said Derek thoughtfully. "I can see that. She's pretty hot too."

"You forget he knows about Lavender, too," said Dean.

"Yeah, but _everyone_'s been with Lavender."

"I haven't!" protested Harry.

"Hey... so if Gryffindor girls are kinky... your sister is a Gryffindor girl, isn't she?" teased Jack to Ron. Ron threw his pillow at him.

"Ginny's not like that," reassured Harry.

"Isn't she?" said Dean, sounding genuinely surprised.

Ron threw Harry's pillow at him.

"Ritchie?" said Harry, hoping to get a sane reaction from someone.

"Oh, I'm not really looking for anyone," said Ritchie quietly.

"Good," said Harry. "Good. Not everyone is a depraved sex-maniac like you lot."

All the younger boys smirked. Harry grabbed his pillow back.

"I'm shattered," he said. "I'm going to sleep."

He slept to the sound of six boys laughing raucously about sex.

*  


  
The next day, Ron awoke to find a package at the foot of his bed.

"Brilliant! He sent it!" said Ron.

"Sent what?" said Harry sleepily, and sat up. Dean and Ritchie were already dressed, looking curiously at the package; the other three boys were already at breakfast.

"Well, George has got a muggle telly in his flat," said Ron. "And we were watching it and this brilliant advert came on where the guy sprayed this special stuff on himself and it made girls throw themselves at him, and George told me he'd get me some if I gave him twenty galleons. And the best thing is, it's muggle so it's not prohibited!"

Dean, to their surprise, laughed raucously.

"Why would you _want_ girls throwing themselves at you?" said Harry. "I mean, when you've got Hermione. Wouldn't she kill you?"

Ron suddenly looked less excited.

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "But we can totally use it on Malfoy. He won't be able to move for droves of girls. It'll drive him insane! What's so funny, Dean?"

Dean wiped his eyes and sat up on his bed.

"You know that was... just an advert, right? I mean, muggles can't make anything that makes girls jump you. And if they could it would be illegal. It's just a joke."

Ron looked appalled. Harry and Ritchie began to laugh.

"So I paid George twenty galleons for..." he looked down at the canister. "What _does_ it do?"

"It's deodorant," said Dean. "It just smells nice. Well, I think it smells awful but some people like it."

Harry cracked up.

"Why the hell did it take him so long, then?" said Ron.

"Probably wanted to make you think it was some great mysterious challenge," said Dean, trying not to start laughing again. Harry attempted to get a hold of himself.

"I've got my own bloody deodorising potion," growled Ron, throwing the canister onto the bed. He got up and pulled on his robes.

"I'm going to see if Hermione's up. Meet you in the common room?"

"Sure," said Harry, still grinning. "Speaking of deodorant, can I borrow some?"

"You can have the whole bloody can," said Ron, chucking him his expensive spray. Harry snorted.

"Here, wait for me," said Dean, scrabbling up. They both disappeared down to the common room.

"I'll wait for you, if you like," said Ritchie quietly. Harry smiled in a friendly way and pulled on his robes, socks and pants. He looked at Ron's deodorant for a moment, and figured it could do no harm.

He sprayed his underarms liberally. He sniffed; it was strange, but he couldn't smell anything. Harry remembered Dudley had some truly awful stuff you could smell all through the house – maybe his wasn't working?

He saw Ritchie inhale, and then inhale again deeply with a faint smile. Maybe it only worked on other people.

Then he looked at Harry.

"Or alternatively," he said, voice sounding very strange, "We could skip breakfast and stay right here."

Then he leapt. Harry was knocked back onto his bed, and Ritchie's mouth seemed suddenly very close and _oh my god_ he was trying to kiss Harry.  
_  
_"Mmmph!" protested Harry, shoving at the dead weight of boy sprawled all over him, eventually managing to roll Ritchie onto the floor.

"Ritchie," he said, as the boy jumped up for another go, "RITCHIE! I don't like you like that!"

"But –" protested Ritchie, looking quite deranged, "But you're so delicious Harry, I can't bear to sleep in these dorms knowing you're near!" He tried to lunge again.

"Ritchie!" protested Harry, fending him off. "This isn't like you at all!"

"You drive me wild with desire!"

Ritchie attempted a close-quarters rugby tackle. Harry dodged, and made a heroic run for it.

He hoped the common room was fairly empty, because he had a feeling he looked a bit ruffled.

Thankfully, only Ron, Hermione and Ginny were left, obviously waiting for him. Ginny looked up as he arrived.

"Harry," she said huskily, and dived for him. Feeling a little put-upon, he allowed her rather enthusiastic hug but attempted to protest when she pinned him to the wall and stuck her tongue down his throat.

"Ginny!" he choked out.

"I need you right here, right now," she said. "Oh, _Harry..._"

"I thought we were going to wait!" protested Harry.

"I can't wait another second!"

"Get off him, you little slut!"

Harry was glad Hermione was coming to the rescue, but really, was there any need for that?

"He's _mine_," continued Hermione, and only then it occured to Harry that something might be wrong. He didn't have much time to think, though, as Hermione pulled Ginny back by the hair and dived in, requiring his second dodge of the day.

"That lying bastard!" said Ron. "It _does_ work! Harry, if you touch my girlfriend..."

"Help!" begged Harry, fending said girlfriend off with a chair.

"Oh, right, erm – _nasoinhibitus_!"

Hermione and Ginny staggered back, clutching their noses.

"Quick thinking," said Harry, impressed.

"Thanks," said Ron.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" said Hermione, hands over her face.

"Don't be sorry," said Ginny dangerously, looking at Harry. "What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" protested Harry, raising the chair again.

"George sent us prank deodorant that attracts women!" said Ron quickly, saving Harry from a potential hexing. "Harry didn't know it really worked."

"Not just women," said Harry, glancing nervously at the door to the boys' dorms. Ron stared.

"I see," said Hermione, looking less embarrassed and more suspicious. "And you didn't _ask_ for this... _prank_?"

"Why would I do that?" said Ron, looking slightly shifty. "I don't need girls to throw themselves at me. I already have the best one."

Hermione's expression softened.

"You might have wanted to trick Harry," she said.

"Without telling you? I don't want to watch my girlfriend go insane over my best friend. Or my sister, to be honest." he pulled a face. Hermione smiled.

"Alright. Harry, I think you might want to take a thorough shower," she said.

"I can't go back upstairs," said Harry quickly. "Ritchie."

"Well then we'll have to get you to the prefects' bathroom. And quickly. Ron, keep that spell handy."

"What if this doesn't work?" said Harry nervously as they jogged briskly in the direction of the bathroom.

"I'm sure it will," said Hermione, not sounding sure at all. "If not, you'll just have to hide in your dorm until Ron writes to George. We'll tell everyone you're sick."

"_Nasoinhibitus!_" yelled Ginny at a passing first year, who looked terrified and ran for it.

"Don't you think she was a bit young to be affected?"

"Some girls bloom early," said Ginny. "Best not to risk it."

She squeezed Harry's hand. Harry was mildly horrified.

"Don't worry, Harry, we'll sort it out. Here we are!"

"How do you know where the prefects bathroom is?" said Harry suspiciously.

"Oh, er – someone told me," said Ginny airily. "What's the password?"

"Rubber ducky," said Hermione, and the door opened.

"Right," said Ron, shoving him forward. "Scrub up."

"Aren't you going to wait?" said Harry.

"We'll be late to get our timetables," said Hermione kindly. "We'll pick up everything you need, don't worry. Coming, Ginny?"

"I'll be fine," reassured Harry, at her somewhat speculative look.

"Suit yourself," said Ginny, linking arms with Hermione. "Later, Harry."

All three left him to it. Harry sighed, and started running his bath.

It was nice, at least, to chill out for a little bit. He scrubbed his underarms thoroughly, then kicked back and dozed for an hour or so. He did have to make sure, after all.

Then it occurred to him he would have to wash his clothes as well, or at least his robe.

He got out, dried off, and attacked the robe with several rounds of _scourgify_. It didn't smell of anything, but Harry hadn't been able to smell it before, either.

He thought he might just have to risk it. If he left now, he'd be able to go down to the kitchens for a snack before mid-morning lessons. Not that he knew what they were – he'd have to hope he bumped into Ron and Hermione, too.

The coast outside the bathroom was clear. Harry, still conscious of the possibility that a bath had not worked (in fact, now he came to think of it, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes were often notoriously difficult to get rid of), made sure to keep his wand out as he crept down to the ground floor.

"Too good to go to lessons, Potter?"

Harry jumped, but mercifully it was just Malfoy, coming up from the dungeons a little way behind him. Harry stuck his wand in his pocket.

"All alone, Malfoy? I guess even the Slytherins hate you now."

Malfoy sneered and took a step closer.

"What would you know about it?" said Malfoy, eyes narrowed in perfect hatred. "It's not like you invited any to your little heroic club."

"Because you're all evil!" said Harry, and then bit his lip. "Well, complete gits, at least."

Malfoy began strolling closer in that insufferably arrogant way of his, all aristocratic grace even when the Ministry had stripped them of everything and his name no longer meant a thing. Harry already wanted to punch him.

"And of course _you _don't know anybody mean," he sneered, "Because all your friends are good little Gryffindors or poor dim Hufflepuffs or ever-so-clever Ravenclaws. Can't be that clever, though, if they want to hang out –"

He stopped, suddenly, about two feet from Harry. Took a deep breath.

"No way," said Harry, about half a second before Malfoy took a leap. Malfoy pinned him to the wall, and Harry wasn't quick enough to get his wand, and maybe Malfoy just wanted to fight...

Then Malfoy covered Harry's mouth with his, and it definitely seemed that Malfoy was affected, and Harry was a bit too shocked to fight back. And Malfoy's tongue was tracing the inside of his mouth and his hips pinned Harry's to the wall and really this was... horrible, but he couldn't get to his wand and it was difficult to think with Malfoy moaning faintly into his mouth and he didn't know how to make it stop...

Then Malfoy did stop, or at least he moved his mouth to Harry's ear, and Harry found himself shivering a little as Malfoy murmured,

"Fuck, Potter, I want you, what the hell have you done to me I'm going to kill you for this, _oh_..."

Malfoy was pressing his hips closer, and Harry felt lightheaded and really this ought to stop...

He did not know what strength of will made him push Malfoy away, but he did, and yelled "_Nasoinhibitus!" _at the top of his lungs.

He leant against the wall, gasping for breath as Malfoy regained his senses. His lips looked bruised.

Then Malfoy lunged again, and Harry thought perhaps his spell might not have worked until Malfoy's hands were around his neck.

"What the hell did you do to me?" snarled Malfoy, pale cheeks going visibly scarlet, and Harry had forgotten how to think straight.

"You think this is funny, is that it?" he hissed, shaking Harry, "Yet another way to humiliate me, is that it? Haven't you done enough, coming to my hearing and being all _oh, he's a good boy really_, as if I cared whether your stupid little goodies club accepts me or not!"

"No," said Harry, definitely lightheaded now, because Malfoy was blocking his throat. "No, I didn't know you'd..."

"Know I'd what?" said Malfoy. "React quite as much? Bullshit. If you tell anyone, Potter, I swear –"

"I'm not going to! Also, I can't breathe!"

Malfoy let him go. He looked wild with fury and humiliation.

"I hate you," he hissed. "Don't ever come near me again."

Malfoy turned and stormed away. Harry wanted to yell that he wouldn't want to anyway, but for some reason the words wouldn't come.

He walked along the corridor in a daze, only remembering that he hadn't got rid of the magical deodorant when he reached the entrance hall. The hall was busy with people crossing to get to their next lessons, and Harry froze in horror as the closest girl sniffed, breathed deeply and turned blindly. Sensing prey.

As the entire female population followed suit, Harry ran.

*  


  
Ron and Hermione found him at lunch. He was hiding in the boy's dorm – Ritchie was mercifully gone – and he leapt up with his broom in one hand and wand ready in the other.

"It's alright," said Hermione, and Harry relaxed. "You can put the broom down. I'm guessing it didn't work?"

"No, it didn't," said Harry, trying not to think of being pressed up against a wall by Malfoy... of having Malfoy's wicked tongue in his mouth...

"Bad experience?" said Ron, wincing. "Wasn't someone hideous, was it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he said quickly, before he had a chance to say that actually, Malfoy's angular looks weren't that bad, and who really cared when a long lithe body like that was pressed up against him?

He put his head in his hands.

"We need to tell Professor McGonagall," said Hermione. "And Ron, write to George right away."

Ron nodded and scrabbled in his case for a quill and parchment.

"We can't tell Professor McGonagall!" protested Harry. "She'd – it's – _embarrassing_!"

"Hey, Harry... do you think even she'd..."

"Lalalalala!" said Harry. "Why did you do that to me, Ron? Now I can't think of anything else!"

"Well, really," said Hermione archly. "I never knew you felt that way about our headmistress..."

Ron cracked up.

"It's not funny," said Harry darkly.

"No, it's not," said Hermione, repressing a grin. "It's very serious and very illegal and it could have very serious consequences. I can't imagine what your brother was thinking."

"He was thinking that it would be hilarious," said Ron. "Which it is. A little bit."

Both Harry and Hermione glared.

"I'll just go send this note, shall I?"

He scurried away from his girlfriend's disapproving gaze.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed in despair.

"I can't see Professor McGonagall," said Harry. "I'd never live it down if she –"

"I'll explain first. It'll be fine. Spells at the ready, yes? Come on."

Hermione threaded her arm through Harry's. Harry felt rather as if he were being frogmarched to his doom.

Harry could hear the noise of the common room as he travelled down the stairs. He tried to stop, but Hermione tightened her grip.

They entered the room. Almost every female head – and a few male ones, too – turned his way. The nearest girl's nose twitched –

"_Nasoinhibitus totalus!_" said Hermione primly. Everyone clutched their nose.

"Wow," said Harry. "Lifesaver."

"Probably literally," said Hermione. "You'd be suffocated."

*

At first McGonagall was trying not to smile.

"Women find your deodorant irresistable," she repeated.

"Not just women," said Harry.

"Anyone of the appropriate orientation," explained Hermione helpfully. Harry shook his head in disbelief. He'd had a few surprises on the way here, and of course there'd been _Malfoy_...

That had been a hell of a shock.

As was Harry's inability to stop thinking about it.

McGonagall looked at him over her glasses.

"And you're sure this wasn't the desired effect?"

"I have a girlfriend!" protested Harry. _Who you don't really want to sleep with,_ supplied his brain helpfully. "I don't want to be snogged to death by a mountain of women!"

Maybe just the one Malfoy...

Harry shut down his brain on that thought.

"No, I suppose not. And you don't know where the deodorant came from?"

"Not a clue," lied Harry, not very well, but McGonagall seemed content to let it pass.

"Well, I suppose we will have to have a whole school announcement," she said. "Tell everyone of your predicament, get them to block up their noses."

"Oh God," said Harry. "Please don't... can't I just, stay in solitary confinement or something? Until we figure out a way to stop it?"

"This school unfortunately does not have solitary confinement facilities," said McGonagall, looking amused. "But perhaps you could be given the day off. To research. Miss Granger can fetch you some relevant books and then return to her afternoon lessons. In the meantime, I suggest you stay locked in your dorm. Come to me if there are any developments, please, Miss Granger."

"We will, Professor."

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

"What is the counterspell to this smell blocking charm?"

"_Uninhibitus,_ Professor," said Hermione.

"Good," said McGonagall. "A cup of Earl Grey is not quite the same without the smell. You may go."

Harry left dejectedly. Hermione fired spells indiscriminately as they passed.

Ron appeared in the dorm shortly after they arrived.

"Just got a reply," said Ron, scowling. "It's pretty short. It just says 'Look on the can.'"

Harry dived desperately for the aerosol. He squinted at the fine print, but it was all warnings and instructions. Then Hermione pointed to the front.

It said '24h'.

"Twenty four hours," said Hermione. "Well, at least we know it wears off. When did you put it on?"

"Around eight thirty," said Harry.

"And it's nearly two," said Ron, looking at his watch. "We need to get to class soon."

"Only another eighteen hours, Harry. It'll be over in no time. I'll go tell McGonagall. And I'll be sure to bring your homework!"

"Great," said Harry dryly. "Thanks."

"See you, mate," said Ron, patting him sympathetically. "I'll brief everyone in the dorm about nasal precautions. You know, just in case."

Harry nodded, miserable.

"See you later, Harry," said Hermione kindly.

They locked the door on the way out.

Harry flopped on his bed, and considered never coming out again.

Unfortunately, the difficulties of the day meant that he had completely forgotten to eat. His stomach was growling painfully by three o'clock, and as Ron and Hermione had still not returned, Harry was considering desperate measures.

He pulled out the Marauder's Map. There was no-one in the common room – it was now or never if he was going to make it to the kitchens unscathed.

He pulled out his invisibility cloak, too. How could he be mobbed if no-one could see where to jump?

He made it as far as the third floor without meeting anyone. It was very strange, to see a fifth-year Ravenclaw sniffing the air and making random leaps; Harry took pity on her, and blocked her nose.

Coast clear, he scurried down to the kitchens and tickled the pear. He had swung the door wide before it occurred to him that House Elves might be affected too.

"NASOINHIBITUS TOTALUS!" he bellowed, horrifying images leaping to his mind.

"Oh, Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked the nearest elf with enthusiasm. "Can we help you?"

"Is there a reason you be blocking our noses, sir?"

"Would you like some tea, sir?"

"Stand back!" said a slightly more familiar squeaky voice. "This is _Kreacher's_ master. What can Kreacher be doing?"

  


  


  


Harry gave him a smile.

"I missed lunch," he said. "And I can't go to dinner. Could I possibly have–"

"We will make you a feast!" said Kreacher, and the other elves nodded enthusiastically.

"I don't need a feast. Just a couple of sandwiches to take upstairs."

"You will not take a seat, sir?" said Kreacher, who was already dragging a chair over to a nearby countertop. "There is cottage pie and apple crumble if you wants it, or ice cream, or roast chicken from yesterday –"

"The cottage pie sounds great," said Harry, casting a nervous glance at the door. He hoped not too many students made it a habit to raid the kitchens, because he's be off his guard with all the food the elves would try to force-feed him.

Sure enough, he recieved a mountain of cottage pie with vegetables and extra gravy to boot, and Harry tucked in with enthusiasm. Kreacher wrung his hands and muttered to himself about Hogwarts standards and the noble house of Black and how he hoped Harry liked it.

After being plied on all sides with offers of desserts, Harry thought he had quite outstayed his welcome. He shuddered to think what Hermione would say if she saw him. He accepted a final basket of chicken sandwiches, and with a wary glance at the map – which he'd never be able to check and carry the basket at the same time – he donned his cloak and set off back to Gryffindor tower.

He got as far as the fourth floor before everyone began emerging from lessons, and Harry reflected that he really had timed this appallingly badly. He was right next to the charms classroom, and he could hear chattering voices inside, and he dived into the nearest empty room and locked the door tight.

He really hoped that no-one could smell him through the door.

He set the basket down on a desk and pulled out the Marauder's Map again. He was delighted to see that Ron and Hermione were in the classroom – he watched their dots join the throng of those exiting the room.

It was a double lesson with Slytherin, which meant Malfoy was there, but he had managed to make it out of the door first and had already taken off at record speed when he heard Ron and Hermione's voices.

"I feel really guilty, leaving Harry upstairs like that," he heard Hermione say, which was gratifying.

"Idiot's probably got bored and gone for a jaunt by now," said Ron, which was annoyingly perceptive.

"Oi!" said Harry, but they did not hear him. Harry rolled his eyes and waited for the corridor to clear.

He put the map away, and decided to make a break for it. He picked up the basket, peered carefully down the short corridor – then he slipped out and began a fast walk. He couldn't quite manage a run, not with the House Elves' giant basket, but he got up to a brisk jog before he heard the words he'd been dreading.

"Hang on, I forgot my book – I'll see you in the common room."

Harry froze as Malfoy rounded the corner, and scrabbled for his wand. He didn't know how long that nose-blocking spell lasted, and stupid bloody Malfoy had probably taken it off anyway.

Malfoy sniffed, and that was Harry's answer.

"_Nasoinhibitus!_" said Harry.

Malfoy rugby-tackled him anyway. They went crashing to the floor, basket flying down the corridor.

"Ow," said Harry, half out of the cloak. "Did I miss?"

"No," said Malfoy, breath short, "And nor did I." He scrabbled up, dragging Harry's cloak away with him. He stepped back a few paces and admired it.

"You've got away with so much shit because of this," he said. "I really think I ought to confiscate it."

Harry scrambled to his feet.

"Don't you dare," he growled, and made a dive for it. Malfoy was too fast; he jumped back, holding the cape behind him and smirking wickedly.

"Give it back, Malfoy," said Harry, with the voice he reserved for Dark Lords. Malfoy's sneer dropped a little, but he did not move.

"What are you gonna do, Potter?"

"I could unblock your nose," he said, raising his wand.

"You wouldn't," sneered Malfoy. "I can run faster than you. Unless you want me to catch you? It certainly took you a while to get rid of me this morning, and don't think I didn't feel –"

"Shut up," said Harry. "And give it back. Before I tell the whole school you stuck your tongue down my throat."

"And_ I'll_ tell the whole school you got off on it," said Malfoy. Harry just smiled.

"Ah, but the thing is – they'll _believe_ me."

Draco looked at the cloak, then up at Harry again. He looked as though he might be sick as he held it out.

"Thanks," said Harry, snatching it back. He didn't like the look on Draco's face, fear and hate and resentment tightening his sharp features.

"I hate you," said Draco. "Youre the reason my life is so fucked up, and now you can fuck it up even more."

"I wouldn't have told really," said Harry, wishing it was different.

"No, of course not, why would you? You've got plenty on me and my family, you don't need anything else. My life is in your hands, I get it. Just don't expect me not to hate you."

"I don't really want us to be enemies," said Harry desperately, wishing he could wipe the look of despair from Draco's face.

"Easy for you to say," growled Draco. "You've already won."

Draco turned to go. Harry darted forward and caught his wrist.

"Don't touch me, Potter," he snapped, yanking his hand away and shoving him backwards with it. Harry shoved back on pure instinct, and Draco snarled and threw himself at Harry. They went clattering to the floor again and Harry's glasses flew, and this time Draco was out to hurt, slamming his head down into the stone. The world greyed, and he reached up blindly through the pain to pull Draco's hair. He yanked his head up and pushed Malfoy back, rolling over until he was on top, knees either side of his hips as he scrabbled to pin Draco's hands down. But Draco was lithe and fast and Harry was dizzy, and Malfoy caught him with a vicious punch and rolled away. Harry grabbed at Draco's robes, ready to hurt back now, but Draco was already regrouping, lunging, and the breath was knocked out of him as Malfoy dived and caught his wrists tight enough to bruise. Harry wriggled, trying wildly to escape, but Mafloy had his whole weight on Harry and the hands around his wrists felt like they might snap his bones any moment and the only thing Harry could think to do was arch up and bite...

Only he ended up coming into contact with Malfoy's mouth, and his own mouth was already open and it seemed the only way to win, to thrust his tongue through Draco's parted lips. Draco froze, but Harry won only a second's shock before Malfoy released Harry's wrists to hold Harry's head tight and begin his own assault with lips and tongue and teeth. Harry was hotly aware of the rapid beating of his heart; he groaned, and caught Malfoy's lip between his teeth, biting almost too hard before Malfoy's tongue thrust its way into Harry's mouth with fierce determination.

Harry's hands hurt and his head ached and he was conscious of every inch of his own body, of the heat where it met Draco's, of the hot, unmistakeable hardness pressng into his hip. He shifted, and Malfoy broke the kiss to exhale sharply, and Harry looked blurrily at the silver lashes inches from his own before it occured to him that he was kissing Malfoy.

Malfoy seemed to realise this fact, too, as his head came up sharply, looking up and down the corridor. Harry stayed still, fearful, still very aware that this was no spell – they'd kissed, and they were both quite clearly getting off on it.

Draco's eyes flicked down to Harry's.

"I hate you," he snarled, but he did not move.

"Funny way of showing it," said Harry, and couldn't stop the dark laugh that passed his lips.

"You're one to talk," said Draco. "And I don't see what's so funny."

He made his point with a shift of hips. Harry gasped.

"Don't," he breathed. "Or maybe do. I'm not sure I can think straight with you on me."

"You're winding me up," said Draco, suddenly scrabbling away. "You don't say stuff like that. You don't... you're _Harry Potter_."

"Glad to see you've noticed," said Harry dryly, body keenly missing the contact. "Ow, my head."

"What about your Weasley girlfriend? You don't like guys."

Harry covered his face with one hand.

"I'm aware of that," he said.

"Probably the knock on the head. I hope you're brain damaged."

"I like that explanation," said Harry, thinking of how actually, he certainly didn't want to sleep with Ginny, and had there been any girl he could actually imagine sleeping with? Not there were any boys, either, he'd certainly never thought of _Malfoy_...

Except now he was, and maybe he _did_ like guys, and maybe he actually didn't like that explanation at all.

"Me too," said Draco, who was beginning to look panicky. "Let's go with that."

"I've changed my mind," said Harry, sitting up and catching Malfoy's wrist. Malfoy looked alarmed. There were scarlet patches on his pale cheekbones, and his lips were damp from kissing.

"No you haven't," said Draco. He seemed afraid.

"Yes I have," said Harry. "I think maybe I do like guys."

Draco pulled his wrist away and stood up.

"You're insane," he said. "Forget it ever happened."

And before Harry could say a word, Malfoy ran.

Harry closed his eyes. The memory of Malfoy's body against his was there to meet him.

"Yeah, right," he said, and groaned.

He'd have to talk to Draco again. But only after he'd had a healing charm, and possibly a strong drink.

Now all he had to do was get up to Gryffindor tower and not get mugged.

*

"Ready to talk about it yet?" said Hermione, patting the back of his head with cotton soaked in healing salve.

"No," said Harry, for the tenth time, although he thought he might burst out with it any moment, and he dearly needed to talk to someone.

"She must have been pretty vicious," said Ron, sniggering. "God, your face when you got into the common room!"  


  


  
"Yes, well," said Hermione. "It's all very funny, but Harry could have been very hurt. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking how I missed breakfast and lunch," said Harry. "It's not like I wasn't careful."

"Not careful enough, obviously," said Hermione. "But there's no harm done."

"Not sure about that," muttered Harry. Hermione smiled.

The door opened and Hermione fired a nose-blocking hex without checking to see who it was.

"Oi, what was that for?" asked Jack. "Ooh, Harry, in bed with your best friend's bird?"

Hermione gave him a look. Jack grinned and winked at her. Ron coughed significantly.

"Oh, I see," he said, leering. "All three of you, is it?"

"Shut up, Jack," said Andy, coming up behind him. Harry eyed him warily, but he didn't seem inclined to leap. "Where've you been all day, Harry?"

"Long story," said Harry tiredly.

"What's that smell?" said Dean, peering around the two boys in the doorway. "It's..."

His eyes were already glazing. Hermione hexed him.

"Harry's got stuff that makes anyone of the right sexual preference jump him," explained Ron. "Dean, I thought you liked girls!"

Dean shrugged.

"Personality, not gender," he said off-handedly. "Does that mean that spray stuff actually works?"

"Brilliant!" said Jack. "Can I have some?"

"Only if you don't mind the odd unexpected guy trying to snog you," said Harry darkly.

"Oh, is that what happened? Does it bother you?" said Hermione curiously.

"Er..." said Harry. "Not... really."

"Good," said Hermione. "I don't think that sort of thing is important."

"On an unrelated subject, do you think we could talk somewhere later?" whispered Harry, pulling her closer.

"Of course," said Hermione, looking madly curious. "Um, how about now? I left your homework downstairs. If we make a break for it we can probably find an empty classroom."

"That would be great," said Harry.

"Ron?" she said loudly. "I've left Harry's homework. I'm just going to fetch it."

Hermione strolled casually out of the dorm room. Harry watched her go.

"Oh, I left my, um, cloak in the hallway. I'm just going to get it."

"But Harry–" protested Ron. Harry ignored him and all but ran downstairs. He met Hermione half way down.

"Right," she said. "On three, we'll run for it. One, two, three!"

They ran for it.

"Oh, take me now!" cried a third-year, and dived. Harry dodged and threw himself through the portrait hole. Hermione jumped, and slammed it behind them.

There was a faint thud as a dozen women tried to follow.

Harry was going to kill George.

"Where now?" he said.

"There's a classroom a few corridors away. Should be fine if we seal the door. Come on."

They walked in brisk silence to the nearest classroom, which was dusty and a little chilly due to a broken window pane. Harry wondered when it had last been used to teach.

"What's up?" said Hermione, sitting on the teacher's desk. Harry leant against a wobbly table and ran a hand through his hair.

"It was Malfoy who gave me the bump on my head," he said.

"Oh!" said Hermione. "So you fought? But you came in looking thoroughly snogged..."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" said Harry pointedly, surprised Hermione hadn't connected it at once.

"You mean... Malfoy was affected by the deodorant? Oh, Harry, poor you... it must have been dreadful!"

"Hmm," said Harry. "That's not exactly what happened."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Then what on earth did?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair again. He had the feeling it was probably looking a bit insane.

At least it suited his mood.

"You know when you found me hiding at lunch?"

"Yes," said Hermione.

"Well, Malfoy was how I found out the bath didn't work."

"Ah," said Hermione, looking as though she wanted to giggle. "Oh, I bet he was furious. I didn't know he liked guys – probably no-one else does too. And to kiss _you..._"

"Hey!" said Harry.

"No, no," said Hermione. "Just because you hate each other so much, and he's so proud..."

"Well, yeah, he wasn't thrilled," said Harry.

"But what's that got to do with just now? Did he attack you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "At first."

Hermione put her hand over her mouth.

"You mean he kissed you? Without being able to smell you? Oh my god... are you really upset?"

"Not for the reasons you think," said Harry darkly, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"Harry..." she said. "Are you trying to... come out to me?"

Harry snorted.

"No, I was trying to tell you I snogged Draco Malfoy and liked it. But I guess it comes with the territory."

"Oh," said Hermione. "Well... not necessarily. I mean, it's not that different from kissing a girl, is it... and many authorities believe in a sliding scale of sexuality, so maybe you're just a _little_ bit into men... I mean, what do you think, Harry?"

"I think that one violent snog in the middle of the corridor was hotter than a dozen fumbles with Ginny," he confessed.

"Ah," said Hermione. "Well, that's probably significant."

"Maybe I'm Malfoysexual," said Harry, then had a terrifying vision of himself in a clinch with the Malfoy father and shut his brain down on the idea.

"So what are you going to do?" said Hermione gently.

"Well," said Harry, "I'm not really sure. Obviously I have to talk to Malfoy again, but he just thinks I'm on some weird power trip, and he really hates me... but then again, he _is_ a little bit evil, not completely obviously, but a little bit, and can you imagine what his parents would say if they found out? God, what's Ron going to say... but yeah, I think if I can get him alone again we can talk – or maybe not, you know, maybe direct is the answer –"

"Harry," interrupted Hermione. "That wasn't quite what I meant, and aren't you forgetting something important?"

"What, that I hate Malfoy? I don't really. I mean he can be annoying and everything, but he helped us out in the war and I think I do like him a bit, that's why I went to his hearing –"

"I was talking about _Ginny_," said Hermione sternly.

"Ah," said Harry.

"You need to tell her right away."

"About Malfoy?"

"About your sexual crisis! You can't just leave her hanging while you prove your sexuality by trying to get off with Draco Malfoy, can you?"

"No," said Harry miserably. "No, I suppose not."

"And you better talk to Ron, else he'll strangle you to death for hurting his sister."

"Oh, God," said Harry, putting his head in his hands. "I thought you were supposed to _fix _things, Hermione."

"I am," she said primly. "Now let's get back before Ron's jealous streak demands to know what you're doing with me."

Hermione took his arm without asking, and Harry was marched back to the common room.

"_Nasoinhibitus totalus,_" said Harry dejectedly. The common room, previously in various stages of deep inhalation and predatory crouching, returned to normal.

"I think," said Harry, smiling faintly at Ginny's wave, "I need to sleep on it."

He went up to his dorm and crawled under the pillows, and refused to come out ever again.

*

Unfortunately, the morning intervened.

"Oi, Potter," said Ron, jumping on his bed and waking him with a start. "You're safe now, I reckon. How does it feel not to drive women crazy with your scent?"

"Incredibly relieving," he said groggily, and meant it on a good many levels. He cast a fearful glance at Ritchie's bed – he hadn't seen him since The Incident. It was empty.

"I think Ritchie's avoiding everyone," explained Ron. "He came in late last night and he made a proper dive for you before we got him, bit of a shock apparently as everyone assumed he was into girls. I think he's really worried about Jack."  


  


  
"Jack?" said Harry, looking at the boy's bed. It was also empty.

'Yeah," said Ron. "Him and Ritchie are like, quietly inseperable, apparently. I think he's worried that Jack knowing he's gay is going to ruin their relationship."

"Yeah," said Harry. "On a somewhat related note..." He pulled a face. "I sort of need to talk to you."

Ron winced.

"You don't have to. I think I know."

"What? How?"

Ron shrugged awkwardly.

"Hermione's _really_ bad at keeping stuff quiet around me. She was bursting to tell me what you talked about last night, but 'cause she couldn't she settled for hinting. I think she thinks I'm too stupid to get it."

"Just so we're clear," said Harry. "What do you think you know? Because you have been known to be too stupid."

"Oi!" complained Ron. "She was hinting that you're – that you think you – don't like Ginny that way. Or any girl, for that matter."

"Pretty much," said Harry dryly. "I think I've had an epiphany."

"Is this to do with Ritchie's, erm, funny turn?" said Ron, looking supremely uncomfortable.

"No," said Harry.

"And you're sure that it's not just the fact that you were leapt on by girls all yesterday? That'd be enough to put me off for a while."

"No," said Harry. "I think I may have known for a while."

"Right," said Ron uncomfortably. "So we've got that straight. Er, or not."

Harry snorted.

"You're being very good about it," he said.

"What, does everyone think I'm some sort of insane bigot who'll fall out with you at the drop of a hat? Well, that's really nice. Not that I'm saying there's not a bit of a precedent, of course, but still. I usually have good reasons!"  


  


Harry grinned and thumped him on the shoulder.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, though he had a little bit. "I thought you might be annoyed because it's going to upset Ginny."

"I am," said Ron, looking stern. "But that has a shiny silver lining."

"What's that?"

"I know you've probably never treated my sister with anything but the utmost honour," he said. "We've got potions first, by the way. Looking forward to Slughorn finding out you're _not_ the best thing since sliced bread?"

"Not really," said Harry. "Can't believe he's still teaching. He's meant to be _retired_."

"Maybe we can tell him your brains were addled in the war."

"Good plan," said Harry, but his brain had taken an abrupt change of tack.

He'd remembered Malfoy would be in Potions.

"Come on, breakfast," said Ron.

Harry followed Ron down to the great hall with extreme nervousness. Ginny waved, but Harry's eyes went straight to the Slytherin table; Malfoy was there, looking troubled and pale, and Harry almost missed the loud obnoxious boy that used to hold court there. Pansy was at his elbow, as she so often was, and although she was talking loudly and brashly at a younger Slytherin boy she looked almost as pale and tired. She was facing away from Draco, and Draco stared ahead without paying the slightest bit of attention, but Harry could see their hands tightly entwined between them.

His pang of jealousy was tempered by sympathy. They were the only two Slytherins to have returned, and no wonder, for who would stay in a school that had witnessed their loved ones fight to destroy it? The Slytherins were broken, social pariahs, and the worst thing was he could not see how many of them deserved it. Most were too young to have made a decision, and of those who did, how many of them had been given a better choice? And did _Draco_ deserve to to be punished, when he'd fought against everything he'd ever known to make the _right_ choice, in the end?

Of course, not all of Draco's distraction this morning could be attributed to the fall of Slytherin.

Harry desperately wanted fo fix it.

He kept his eye on Malfoy as he ate. He had no idea what he was going to do, but then plans were not really in his nature. The first thing to do seemed to be to ascertain what Pansy's role was in all of this.

"She's not going out with him," said Hermione quietly in his ear, and smirked when he started.

"She's had the hots for him for ages, of course, and they had a bit of a thing around the time of the Yule Ball, or maybe it was fifth year? Anyway, that never really worked out, and perhaps we have an explanation for that now. Lavender and Parvati said they heard her say they were, er, fuck buddies, but I don't think that's true. I do think she's in love with him, though."

"Ah," said Harry.

"Mind you," continued Hermione scornfully, drawing Ron's attention. "I wouldn't put it past her. Have you seen what she's done with that robe? They are _not_ that low cut on anyone else."

"Yeah, but you'd hate Pansy if she wore a sack," said Ron, grinning.

"Probably," said Hermione tartly. "She's a horrible person."

"She's alright," said Ron. "I mean, she's not Malfoy-awful, is she?"

Harry winced. Hermione scowled.

"Are you done?" said Harry, a little more shortly than he intended. "Er, wouldn't want to be late."

Ginny was fuming as he left without saying goodbye, but Harry didn't notice.

They were very early, which meant that they got good seats, but Slughorn ruined that with the first words out of his mouth as he entered.

"Don't get comfy!" he said, full of wobbling joviality. "In the spirit of inter-house co-operation, I'm splitting you all up!"

Harry would have accused him of channelling Snape, if it weren't for the fact that Harry could tell Slughorn earnestly believed that this would be good for the class. Snape was usually just being spiteful.

Harry wondered if he was hoping for or dreading being put with Malfoy.

"Go on then, pick a non-House partner! Or I'll start picking myself!"

Everyone shot each other horrified or disgusted looks, but Harry's eyes were on Malfoy. He stood with Pansy, and cast contemptuous looks at any Gryffindor who caught his eye as Pansy looked them all up and down.

"Weasley," she said, startling Ron.

"Alright," he said warily.

"Urgh, Pansy, what are you thinking?" said Malfoy loudly. "Still, better than Potty, I suppose."

"Mr Malfoy!" said Slughorn with cold eyes. "I'll ask you to hold your tongue about the greatest hero of the age."

"It's alright," said Harry quickly. "Don't mind him. It's this, er, light-hearted antagonsim we've got going."

"I see," said Slughorn, eyes softening as they came to rest upon him, and Harry wanted to vomit. "Well, my boy, perhaps you can bond in a more _positive_ way over a potion!"

Harry picked up his books and moved to Malfoy's side without meeting his eyes.

"Sir –" said Malfoy, with barely contained venom.

"Oh, hush, Mr _Malfoy_. Harry is being gracious, why can't you?"

Harry was about to protest against Slughorn's tone, but Draco looked at him and hissed, __

"_Shut up._"

Harry looked at him, confused. There was utter hatred in his eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry he's like that, but it's not my fault," muttered Harry, as everyone bickered over setting up.

"You think that's why I hate you?" said Malfoy. "You've got no idea. What was that all about, _light-hearted antagonism_?"

"I was trying to get him to leave off!" said Harry.

"I _know_," snarled Malfoy. "And I don't need your help!"

"I know you don't need it! But I'm offering anyway, because I want to make things better!"

"Ahem," said Slughorn pointedly, and their voices dropped back to whispers.

"Of course... because you're heroic Harry Potter, aren't you? Well guess what – I don't need saving, and I don't want to be in your holy _debt_ any more. So leave me the fuck alone."

"It's not about _debt,_" hissed Harry. "I'm just trying to be _fair._ Stop being so proud!"

"Me? Ha! You're too proud to admit you're only doing all this because you want to fuck me," snapped Malfoy. His grey eyes sparked, dared him to deny it.

"I don't want –" Harry began, and took a deep breath. "That's not why I'm trying to help you."

"Whatever," sneered Malfoy, turning his back to light a fire under their cauldron. "You're pathetic, Potter, drooling all over me like a puppy just 'cause I'm the first guy you snogged."

"Me? _Drooling?_" said Harry, louder than he intended. "And what about you? Are you just a victim in all this? Don't think I couldn't feel as well, Malfoy –"

"But _I'm _not pretending to like you now!" shouted Malfoy.

"BOYS!" said Slughorn. "Really, this is not the playground! If you carry on like that I'll be forced to send you out of the classroom!"

"Oh, screw you, _Sir,_" sneered Draco. "Call yourself a Slytherin, man? You wouldn't know Slytherin loyalty if it hit you in the face."

"Mr Malfoy, twenty points! If you have a problem with keeping your arguments out of my hearing, kindly remove yourself from my sight."

Malfoy snatched up his bag and swept away in one movement. The door shut behind him with a resounding crack.

"If he goes, I go," said Harry stonily, and followed suit.

The classroom was left in shocked silence.

Malfoy was striding into the dungeons. He heard Harry following, and spun to meet him.

"Come on then, Potter. Let's hear it. How you like me really now that I'm a _good_ boy, and how you think maybe we should give it a go, and how everything is going to be fine as long as I fall in line? Guess what, it's not fine. Nothing's fine! My father's going to die in prison and my mother doesn't have money to _eat_ and Malfoy is now probably the least popular word in the world, right after _Slytherin_. And people hate you for it, some people hate that we all have to be your best friends or get branded as a Death Eater! So it doesn't matter what you say, _I'm_ going to show them you don't have to be evil to hate Harry bloody Potter!"

Harry reached out, tried to grab Draco's wrist. Draco backed away.

"Or you could show everyone that Gryffindor and Slytherin used to be _friends_," said Harry. "I don't care what you think, I _don't_ hate you. Not any more. Even when you're the biggest git who ever lived."  


  


"All this because you can't cope with hating someone and fancying them at the same time?"

"All this because I don't _want_ to hate you! I haven't for ages, and I promise you that the fancying thing is pretty horrifyingly new and weird and I _don't_ want to – go out with you, or whatever –"

Or at least, he hadn't been thinking in those terms. But now he mentioned it, it didn't sound that bad an idea to Harry.

"Maybe _I_ want to hate _you_," said Malfoy.

"That much seems pretty obvious," said Harry. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "But sorry, I'm not sure I can reciprocate."

He looked at the stubborn fire in Malfoy's eyes, and could think of nothing else he could say.

He turned to go. Malfoy caught his shoulder before he could, turned Harry to face him.

"So what?" he sneered. "You're going to just ignore me? You'll never manage that."

"I dunno what I'll do," said Harry. "Wing it, I guess."

"And that's it?" said Draco. "Great Harry Potter has decided I'm not worth his attention?"

"Of course not!" said Harry. "But it's not like you'll listen, is it? What's the point in even trying?"

"Fuck you, then," said Draco, shoving him. "Fuck you, and fuck off."

"Now you're angry at me for leaving?" said Harry, taking a step closer. "Do you want me to go or not? God, what are you afraid of?"

Draco snarled and shoved him into the wall.

"Nothing," he said. "And certainly not _you_."

Harry grabbed the front of Draco's robe and pulled.

"Liar," growled Harry.

Draco fisted a hand in his hair and kissed him viciously.

Harry opened his mouth and arched, head turning as the hand in Harry's hair pulled too tight, and Harry fought back with tongue and teeth and nails digging into Malfoy's sides. Malfoy was more controlled this time, more precise, tongue flickering over the inside of his mouth without giving Harry a second to breathe. Harry groaned, hips moving involuntarily, and Malfoy gasped and pressed back, grinding with almost painful pressure. And Harry wanted _more_, wanted to touch Draco, wanted to surrender to the hands on his chest or fight until he could press against Malfoy and do what he pleased.

Draco pushed himself away, teeth biting Harry's lower lip as he went, and Harry looked at him blankly, confused and disappointed.

"Come on," growled Draco, voice rough, and curled a finger tight in the fabric of his robe. "I'm not afraid. How about you?"

Harry let Draco drag him forward, watched him saunter ahead with his finger still hooked in Harry's robe. He _was_ afraid, he thought he might be as afraid as Draco was, but he wasn't going to give up now, not when Draco walked like that and kissed like that and while he thought there might be something good that could come out of this.

Malfoy pushed him into an empty classroom and locked the door. Harry thought he could hear his own heart racing.

Draco put a hand on his chest and pushed Harry backwards until he hit a desk. Then he moved in, sliding a thigh between Harry's as he twisted a hand in Harry's hair and kissed him fiercely. Harry groaned, happy to be abused for now, and rubbed shamelessly against him. Draco groaned and it sounded involuntary, desperate, as unconscious as the hips now grinding against him. Harry wanted more, scrabbled to get it, pulling Draco's robe up until he broke the kiss to toss it aside, and Draco followed suit with Harry's before Harry could start on Malfoy's shirt. Then Malfoy was kissing him again as he fumbled between them for the button of Harry's jeans, and Harry let his hands explore the smooth back under Draco's shirt. He traced around his waistband, and Draco bucked as Harry's fingers skimmed the line of his hipbone, but it did not distract him for long; Malfoy's nimble hands were undoing Harry's zip, and one hand slid down into his boxers. Harry clawed at Draco's shoulders, throwing his head back, and Draco's mouth descended to bite down on Harry's neck as he began a messy, perfect rhythm, grinding his hips.

"Fuck," said Harry, thrusting his hips up, "Wait – you –"

"You'd better not be changing your –"

"Fuck no," growled Harry, pushing Draco backwards, continuing to push until Draco was up against the wall. "I'm not done yet."

He pressed against Draco, taking control, tearing Draco's shirt open and running his nails over the flesh revealed. He ran his fingers over a faint indentation over his ribs, then froze as he realised what it was – a silvery, S-shaped scar.

"Fuck," he said, pulling back to look at it. It was long and terrifying, faint now but still visible, a very visual reminder of how much they hated one another.

But Harry had regretted it. Even though Draco had wanted to use an Unforgivable on him, Harry regretted it, because Draco had been a mess and he was so damned proud and Harry'd never hated him enough to wish him true suffering, much less death.

"I didn't know –"

"I know, Potter," snapped Draco, looking wild and undone against the wall.

"I never meant –"

"I _know_."

"I'm sorry."

Draco looked at him for a long moment.

"Make it up to me," he said, and smirked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Alright," said Harry, grinning, and now he had more than enough motivation to attempt what had been on his mind when he pushed Malfoy to the wall. He slid to his knees.

Malfoy stared. Harry smirked, and licked the tail end of the scar where it trailed off just below his navel. Draco's eyelids lowered.

Harry undid the buttons of his jeans and pulled both trousers and boxers down.

"Potter, you haven't..."

"Nope," said Harry, licking his lips. "So you'll have to tell me if I'm doing it right."

And with that, he traced his tongue over the head of Malfoy's cock. Malfoy exhaled sharply. Harry grinned, and put a hand on his hip, steadying himself as he wrapped one hand around Draco and ran his tongue in a circle over the rosy flesh in front of him. Contrary to what Ron liked to believe, he had recieved this before, and while his eyes were closed it had been good, amazing, though Ginny was too gentle.

Harry was not gentle as he took Draco into his mouth, imagining how good it felt, feeling obscene and pleased when Malfoy groaned low in his throat. Harry began to move, using his hand where his mouth could not reach, and it was ridiculously arousing to be doing this to him, to have him moan when Harry used his tongue, making him scrabble at the wall for purchase when Harry swallowed around him.

"Fuck, Potter," said Malfoy, hips bucking, choking Harry, but Harry struggled to care when Malfoy was groaning like that, when every uncontrolled movement seemed to go straight to Harry's cock. Malfoy's hand wound its way into his hair, held him in place as he thrust – then Malfoy pulled him away, pulled him upward, devoured him with a fierce kiss as he caught Harry's hand and led it to both their cocks. Harry groaned into Malfoy's mouth, thrusting against him into Malfoy's hand and his own, grinding against spit-slickened flesh until the pressure was too much, too much – he bucked his hips wildly, panting against Malfoy's mouth, and came into the space between their bodies. Malfoy followed suit with a suddering moan.

Harry leant against him for a long moment, catching his breath. It felt like Harry's weight might be the only thing holding him up.

"Mmm," said Harry eventually, when no clever or coherent comment came to him. Malfoy laughed breathlessly in his ear.

"Shift it, Potter," said Malfoy, and Harry did so awkwardly, feeling bare and unpleasantly sticky. Malfoy waved his wand over the mess and pulled his trousers up. Harry did up his jeans and leant aganst the desk behind him.

"Well, that was nice," said Malfoy eventually, looking up at him. "Now let's never talk about it again."

Harry laughed.

"Or, you know. We could do it again. Repeatedly."

"In what way, Potter? Whenever we get bored of shouting at each other we revert to snogging?"

"Sounds like a plan," said Harry. "With less shouting."

"No," said Draco. "I don't like you. I don't want to enter into any sort of relationship with you."

"You like me a bit, I reckon," said Harry, smiling. "Why are you so afraid of that?"

"I'm not," snapped Draco. "I mean it, I don't like you."

"Fine, if it's like that," said Harry, trying to think like a Slytherin, "I might as well use what I have against you now."

"And what's that?"

"That you're gay?" said Harry.

Malfoy snorted.

"You prat, everyone knows. Well, you know, important people."

"But you said not to tell anyone, back when I was wearing that bloody deodorant. When you snogged me first."

"I meant don't tell anyone that – wait, deodorant?"

"Enchanted deodorant," explained Harry. "Made girls throw themselves at me. Well, anyone of the appropriate orientation."

"Oh," said Malfoy flatly. "Oh, is that what it was."

"What did you think it was?"

"Well, there's this potion based on Amortentia – it smells nice, like you did, and... never mind. I've always wanted to use it, and it seemed a bit more sensible than a deodorant that gets you suffocated by a dogpile of girls. Should have known you'd never use _sense._"

"I didn't know it was enchanted," said Harry, irritated. "You really thought I'd done it deliberately? What does this potion do exactly?"

Malfoy was silent. Harry folded his arms.

"What, does it turn your enemies into love slaves?"

"It reveals attractions, alright?" Malfoy ground out.

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, there was no need to get so stressed about it, blaming me like I did it to you on _purpose_, it's not like you could think I knew or anything, I mean, you didn't know either –"

Harry had an epiphany.

"Unlike you, Mr Sexually-Oblivious-Until-He-Gets-A-Tongue-Down-His-Throat, I'm slightly more aware of who I actually fancy," snapped Malfoy. "Don't read too much into it."

"I've sort of had other things on my mind," said Harry. "And I'm not reading into it. But it does make me wonder why you're so opposed to doing it again."

"Look, if I agree to maybe think about doing it again, will you shut up?"

"Deal," said Harry, smiling. He pushed down a thought that Malfoy looked cute when flustered, but did not ignore the accompanying urge to kiss him. Malfoy seemed surprised, but he did not immediately object, and after a moment he pulled Harry possessively close.

"Mmm," said Harry, for the second time. Malfoy smirked against his mouth.

"Oh, alright, maybe I can see some benefits to making this a regular thing," he said.

"Are you going to be nicer to me now?"

"Barely," said Malfoy. "I suppose I can _tolerate_ you more. As long as you are being an obedient sex slave. I'm sure my father would approve."

"I'm not going to be your sex slave," said Harry, laughing.

"Your loss," said Malfoy, smirking. His eyes were heated, and they sent pleasurable shivers down Harry's spine.

"We ought to go back and see if Slughorn is looking for us," said Malfoy eventually.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, wincing. "We are so in trouble."

"Well, if you weren't so bloody eager to act the hero –"

"Oh, whatever, Mr 'Screw You, Professor', you hardly helped."

They pulled their robes on and attempted to look a little less shagged. Malfoy probably had nail marks on his hips.

Class was finishing as they arrived, and they watched the class pass them with shifty eyes. Pansy gave Harry a death glare.

Slughorn gave them a speech about how disappointed he was, but he was a little warmer in Malfoy's direction and Harry considered it a triumph.

In fact, the whole morning was rather a triumph.

Until Hermione made a few pointed comments about Ginny. Harry tried his best not to think about it.

Still, that evening he decided he would have to do something. He had to use the Marauder's Map to find her; she was in an alcove on the fourth floor, not far from the common room, sat on the windowsill opposite Dean.

Harry began to wonder what he might find when he got there. He was not overly surprised to see Ginny leaning in to kiss him as he arrived.

"Harry –" said Dean, putting up a hand to stop her.

"Don't mind me," he said. Dean jumped.

"Oh, Harry Potter, what a surprise," said Ginny, angry and embarassed. "Avoid me all day only to come and find me now, when I've finally found someone who actually listens?"

"Harry, I'm sorry, I'll go," said Dean.

"Don't be sorry, Dean," said Harry, "I'll see you later, alright?"

Dean nodded, looking quietly troubled. Ginny watched him go before turning on Harry.

"Come to apologise for being a terrible boyfriend? You might just be too late."

"I have come to apologise," said Harry. "I am a terrible boyfriend, and I don't mind if you hate me for it, and I wish it could be different because I want the best for you. And I know I love you. Like a sister."

"What are you saying?" said Ginny, looking utterly bowled over.

"I'm saying, I think I might not like girls," said Harry. "I'm sorry. I haven't really spent much time thinking about sex, what with Voldemort and everything, but now I have had a chance to reflect, and I think... yeah."

"Oh my God," said Ginny.

A moment of silence.

"So, if you want Dean, I'd go get him, because I think he's besotted with you and you deserve that," said Harry.

Ginny stood frozen for a moment, then turned on her heel and ran after Dean.

Harry reflected that it could have gone much, much worse.

It seemed to be a day for interrupting kisses, because he got an eyeful the second he walked into the dorm. After they day he'd had, though, it didn't feel like much could shock him.

"Oh, hey Ritchie, hey Jack," he said. "S'funny, thought you had a Ravenclaw girl."

"Erm, he – I –"

Jack was scarlet, and Ritchie was looking at him as though braced to be hurt.

"... I only said all that as a cover," he said eventually. "I couldn't bear the thought that I... and I thought if Ritchie ever found out..."

Harry grinned.

"Well, everyone seems to be having a really good day," he said brightly. "Romantically speaking. Good luck, and all that."

Harry stashed the Marauder's Map away and turned to leave them in peace.

"Er, Harry?" said Ritchie. "Thanks. For using that spray, I mean. I mean, if you hadn't, I wouldn't have... well, I would never have got up the courage to tell anyone, and..."

"Er, no problem," said Harry awkwardly. "See you later."

Ron and Hermione were engaged in some enthusiastic snogging on the sofa. Harry sat for a good ten minutes before they noticed.

"There's obviously something in the air today," said Harry eventually.

"Oh, sorry, Harry, you should have said something!"

"I just did," said Harry dryly.

"Er, wanna play chess, mate?" said Ron, wiping his mouth.

"Yeah, alright," said Harry, but was interrupted by a wide-eyed first year tapping him on the arm.

"Yeah?" said Harry, taking in the boy's terrified eyes.

"Erm, Draco Malfoy's outside," said the boy. "He told me to tell you that –"

"That what?" said Harry, suddenly full of fear.

"That you'd better get y-your arse out there, because he plans to f-fuck you into next week."

"He told you to say that? Wow, Slytherins really are evil."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked appalled, and Ron, who looked nauseous. He winced.

"Don't wait up," he said simply, and shot out the door.

"You're really obscene," said Harry to the blond boy waiting outside, looking somewhat like sex personified in an open shirt and tight jeans. Or maybe it was just Harry.

"Yes, yes I am. Be thankful for that, sex slave," said Malfoy. He smirked.

"I am _not_ your sex slave," protested Harry.

But he was happy to pretend for a while.  


 


End file.
